


The Rise of New Edom

by ValkyrieNyght



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieNyght/pseuds/ValkyrieNyght
Summary: Valentine's Uprising may have ended with his death, but the effects of his lunacy are far reaching and long lasting. The New Accords calls for political hostages, but the execution leaves much to be desired.Young Alec Lightwood was told that above all else he is to keep Magnus Bane safe. Doing so leads him on a proverbial path full of good intentions. The results will lead the Shadow World into a new age.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: The warlock's guardian





	The Rise of New Edom

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the OC warlock, Oberon Onyx, made by Aria_Lerendeair with her permission. 
> 
> This yet another product of my haunting the Malec Discord. The lovely Myulalie and I got into a discussion about this prompt and we both decided to throw our hats in the ring.

When the final battle was over, and the dust began to settle it was more than evident to all that something had to change. Relations between the Downworld and the Nephilim had always been tenuous at best: the ebb and flow of time seeing small flare ups of violence and wells of peace. Never before had tensions erupted so violently. Never before had things been so bloody, so widespread, or so embarrassing.

The Clave was left with proverbial egg on its face. It had stood by at first and watched their latest generation set fire to the Shadoworld in a passionate attempt to fulfil their angel given mission. They looked away and only nearly perished alongside everyone else as that same fire tried to consume them all. This was an incident that would not be swept under the rug. More so, it couldn’t, as there was no more rug to hide under. Valentine, in his mad quest, had done more than try to rid the world of demon and their kin. He had drawn back the veil of superiority that Shadowhunters operated behind. It had been burned, shredded, never to be repaired, and behind it was the truth that the Clave would never be able to fully swallow. That Nephilim could be just as corrupt and without conscience as the Downworlders they so despised. 

Valentine may have corrupted himself with his desire for power, his experiments upon himself warping his spirit beyond recognition, but the same could not be said for his followers. His acolytes wore a rune to pledge their allegiance, and it was a symbol that did more than show the world their twisted views of the world. The rune itself proclaimed their unapologetic fall from grace. It was common knowledge in the entire Shadow world that runes were holy symbols gifted by Raziel. The stark black lines empowered his Chosen, only to be used to enact his mandate; to protect all from demons. But the Circle rune was always an angry red and rumored to ever-burn like the fires of Edom. The Angel may have gifted Shadowhunters the use of runes, but it was easily seen by all just how displeased Raziel was with their use. 

Which led the Shadoworld to this moment; where each side paused to collect their dead for the final time. This could not be allowed to happen again. They had all lost so much, and everyone was angry. As the Shadoworld entered a state of rebirth, most agreed that even the most fundamental truths of their lives needed to be questioned. 

Negotiations began for a new set of Accords. No longer would Downworlders stand by and allow Shadowhunters to brazenly go about without consequence. They had always had numbers on their side, but had stood no chance against the ever vigilant might of the Nephilim. But both had lost, and the Shadowhunters had no good standing. This did not hinder them as they attempted to once again set the rules of the world to lie in their favor.

It is when negotiations are at their most tense that a warlock strikes at the heart of the matter. A single impassioned speech that cut through every argument the Nephilim presented. 

“Your people continue to operate under false pretenses! Is it not bad enough you continue to hobble your young by sequestering them away from anything that is not death or the pursuit of it? You purposefully blind yourselves to the reality of which you live!

The Downworld has let it be because we know the value of free will. There is an entire world out there, not that you would know it. One that has more things in it than you can imagine. But you dare to stand there and attempt to sanction the Downworld for the crime of living! You attempt to punish us all for the things that you deny yourselves.

It cannot stand. It is not your job to regulate our lives or attempt to keep the peace. You were told to defend the mundanes and the souled creatures of the world. You are to battle demons, and demons alone! And may Raziel himself, in all of his feathery glory, strike me down if any of what I have said here today is untrue!”

There was a moment of terrible silence as every representative from all the delegations held their breath. Oberon Onyx was by far the oldest person in the room. Normally a rather exuberant man, he preferred to approach the world with a light heart. But today he was a different man. He had seen and heard and felt all of this before. War was startlingly the same no matter its reason. He was angry, but more than that he was tired. And unlike the Nephilim children in front of him he could remember the last time widespread violence had erupted between these peoples. He remembered the time before that as well. So he knew how powerful a blow needed to be dealt in order for this time to be the last conflict for a long time. It wasn’t enough to kill the people, he had to kill their spirit. He needed to break their faith before they could possibly see how far they had fallen. 

The first moment after his voice finished echoing through the room was tense as everyone present waited for something to happen. The moment passed and the moment after crept into the next, everyone waiting to see if the angel would allow such a challenge go unanswered. Time continued to march forward and Oberon continued to stand there. It was obvious that the lack of answer was an answer in itself. And so it was, the last shredded remains of the lauded Shadowhunter superiority was torn away. Their shame was complete, as even the Angel had abandoned them. Negotiations for the New Accords proceeded swiftly after that. 

Laws may have changed quickly, but people rarely do so. The warlocks knew that, however, so one of the new agreements in the New Accords was that some Nephilim children were to be tasked with guarding young warlocks. Part of enacting that was tasking the young Shadowhunters to grow up alongside their charges. The warlock population had been decimated by Valentine’s Uprising, so there were very few young warlocks in the world. The hope was that the two raised together would help foster new understanding in the coming generation. The hope was altruistic, but the reality was far more self-serving. It might have been considered cruel - to force the change on a people by making them sacrifice their children. But the time for half measures was over, and if survival came at the price of what amounted to political hostages – then so be it.

What the Downworld forgot, or perhaps was unwilling to believe, was that the Clave had a long tradition of invoking their wrath upon themselves just as easily as their enemy. Warlocks failed to remember that Shadowhunters were more than able to sacrifice their young. All but the Clave themselves forgot the fact that Nephilim were a race of survivors for all they perished so quickly. They knew how to sever a limb in order to preserve the body. And so it was that it was those who had so recently brought shame to all were among the first the Clave volunteered to fall on the sword.

This is how one Alexander Gideon Lightwood, all of five, became the guardian of the boy who would one day be Magnus Bane, aged three.


End file.
